True Police Stories of the Strange & Unexplained

TRUE POLICE STORIES

About the Author Ingrid P. Dean, detective sergeant, retired, worked with the Michigan State Police from August 1989 to April 2011 in a variety of capacities, including patrol work, polygraph, forensic art, investigation, and teaching.

Det. Sgt. Dean graduated summa cum laude from Wayne State University, Detroit, Michigan, with a BA in art. She obtained her master’s degree in Transpersonal Studies from Atlantic University, Virginia Beach, VA. Det. Sgt. Dean’s research entails the collection of true, exceptional police experiences viewed as transpersonal—a school of psychology that studies the transcendent and spiritual dimensions of humanity. It is an academic discipline, not a religious or spiritual movement.

Det. Sgt. Dean is a licensed polygraph examiner for the State of Michigan, a basic scuba diver (PADI), and private pilot.

Do you have a police story of your own?

Please visit her website at www.spiritofthebadge.com and submit your story today!

TRUE POLICE STORIES OF THE

STRANGE & UNEXPLAINED Detective Sergeant Ingrid P. Dean

Llewellyn Publications Woodbury, Minnesota

True Police Stories of the Strange & Unexplained © 2011 by Ingrid P. Dean.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever, including Internet usage, without written permission from Llewellyn Publications, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

First Edition First Printing, 2011 Cover art © Fuse/PunchStock Cover design by Adrienne Zimiga Editing by Sharon Leah Llewellyn Publications is a registered trademark of Llewellyn Worldwide Ltd. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data (Pending) ISBN: 978-0-7387-2644-1 Llewellyn Worldwide Ltd. does not participate in, endorse, or have any authority or responsibility concerning private business transactions between our authors and the public.

All mail addressed to the author is forwarded, but the publisher cannot, unless specifically instructed by the author, give out an address or phone number.

Any Internet references contained in this work are current at publication time, but the publisher cannot guarantee that a specific location will continue to be maintained. Please refer to the publisher’s website for links to authors’ websites and other sources.

Llewellyn Publications A Division of Llewellyn Worldwide Ltd. 2143 Wooddale DriveWoodbury, MN 55125-2989 www.llewellyn.com Printed in the United States of America

Contents Foreword . . . ix Introduction . . . 1

one: Angels & Divine Intervention . . . 5 two: Intuition . . . 37 three: Dreams . . . 57 four: Ghostly Apparitions & Haunted Effects . . . 69 five: Karma—Twists of Fate . . . 95 six: The Police Heart . . . 125 seven: Weird & Freaky . . . 163 eight: Signs, Symbols, & Synchronicity . . . 179 nine: UFOs & Unexplainable Phenomena . . . 209 Biographies of Contributing Officers . . . 259 What’s Next? . . . 271

Foreword I have been an intuitive all my life, but the majority of my working career has been spent in the fields of law and corrections.

After earning a bachelor’s degree in both psychology and sociology, I worked for fourteen years as a felony probation officer.

This job required a great deal of contact with police and other corrections workers. During that time, I also did post-graduate work in criminal justice studies and ultimately earned a Doctorate in Law. I was in the private practice of law for many years prior to leaving it to pursue my writing and speaking career full time.

Because of my unique mix of intuitive ability and legal and criminal justice training and expertise, I was asked to train police officers to use their own intuitive abilities in their work. For many years, I was honored to share this training with a number of different police departments. Police officers are, while highly intuitive, also very guarded about sharing personal stories and

ix

experiences. As a matter of fact, I can think of no other group of people who are less likely to openly discuss anything that might be labeled “paranormal” or “metaphysical.”

On the whole, police and corrections officers have more than their share of intuitive ability. As a matter of fact, it is a necessary tool that an officer needs to be safe and successful.

Among themselves, many officers call this skill their “blue sense.” It is the ability to just know things without quite understanding why. It is the sense they have in their “guts,” or how they “smell” out danger. However, the officers I worked with and trained were very reluctant to claim this ability. When I would ask for examples of intuitive instances in their careers, I was usually answered by silence. More often, an individual would privately come up to me after a training session or during a break to share a story of intuitive insight.

That is why I was so impressed when I read Ingrid Dean’s book, True Police Stories of the Strange & Unexplained. Because she, herself, is a detective sergeant, she was able to elicit stories from her fellow officers about amazing occurrences of psychic ability, Divine intervention, ghostly apparitions, and much more. These stories are even more impressive when you consider who is telling them.

Of the thousands of people I have trained to master their intuition, police officers are, in many ways, the most difficult subjects. This is not because they do not have ability. This is because they are very selective about who they trust and careful to only state “facts.” Police officers are trained to write highly factual reports. They are not encouraged to speculate or give opinions, and they certainly are not allowed to include flights of fancy or unsubstantiated information. x

foreword

As you read these stories, you will see how their training is now used in their accounts of metaphysical and intuitive events. Because I know police officers so well, I chuckled a bit at the details included in their stories. Their training and experience shows as they recount names, times, and other information as factually as they recite the most amazing of unexplainable phenomena.

This collection of stories is fascinating and intriguing, and also deeply touching. The police heart shines through the pages in the kindness and concern shown by these hard working and honest officers. I only wish that this book had been available for me to use as a manual when I was doing my trainings. Despite my education, degrees, and correctional experience, I was never completely accepted as “one of them.” This is perhaps the most impressive thing about True Police Stories of the Strange & Unexplained. Only another police officer would ever have been trusted enough to be given these accounts. Thanks to the courage of the officers who shared these stories, we have ample proof that there are many things beyond what we can see with our physical eyes and experience with our five senses.

Police officers deal in life and death situations. They are, perhaps, the most likely people to see many unusual and bizarre happenings. For them to step forward and share them with us is a gift. I am very grateful to Ingrid Dean for collecting these accounts and I hope she continues to receive many more. These stories are the best proof I have seen of intuitive knowledge and paranormal happenings.

—Kathryn Harwig Author and Intuitive Master

foreword

xi

Introduction A human being is part of the whole, called by us “Universe,” a part limited in time and space. He experiences his thoughts and feelings as something separate from the rest—a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal decisions and to affection for a few persons nearest us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty.

—albert einstein

When I first entered into police work, I thought the law enforcement profession was all about service, caring, and making a difference in world. On one level, it certainly is. After over twenty years in the field, however, I’ve learned that police work 1

is much more. It is really an avenue to see oneself through other people. It is an opportunity to address one’s deeply held convictions about life and death and the make up of the world.

Not anyone can be a police officer. It takes an extremely courageous, patient, and relatively balanced person to do this job successfully, productively, and honestly. It takes stamina and resilience to make it all the way to retirement. Most importantly, good officers must be willing to see and understand themselves inside—the good, the bad, the beautiful, and the ugly—in order to really do this job effectively. In my years of service, I have learned to see people more as reflections of myself, in varying degrees. Whether fellow police officers agree with me or not, I believe we chose our jobs to try and heal ourselves.

Police work covers a much broader spectrum than most people realize, concerning human nature and the perils of life and death. Television and the media hardly touch what we really do. As I approached my eighteenth year of police service, I suddenly realized just how narrow-minded and ill-educated people are about police officers—even some administrators and experts in law enforcement, who seemingly forget or have never experienced what it is like to work the streets. I also realized that some of my greatest pleasures and pains came from my own brothers and sisters within law enforcement. I had a realization that police work isn’t just about serving the public, although that is certainly very important. The journey also includes mirroring each other inside police work.

Hence, this book—a compilation of exceptional human experiences that share and explore how police officers, the public,

2

introduction

and life and death are interconnected. It is an attempt to share the full spectrum of extraordinary, strange, and often unexplainable situations police officers experience in their job. I want people to see that there is a human being inside the uniform and behind the badge. It is my hope that fellow police officers can connect with the reader and the public on a more spiritual and emotional level.

This is not a Harry Potter book. It is not a book of scholarly writing. These are real, true stories. The police officers who wrote them possess varying degrees of writing skills and talent.

The collection is made possible by the collective contributions of many active and retired police officers and fellow workers in the field. They speak from their souls.

I collected these stories from officers during the past four years. I chose this assortment of experiences so every reader might find at least one account that touches, heals, or rattles their soul in a positive, educational way. You may not agree or concur with every story, because the stories fall within such a large range of perspectives—from the ordinary to the extraordinary. All I ask is that you be gentle and thoughtful with your opinions. These officers are speaking from their perceptions. Regardless of religion or beliefs, every story seems to suggest we are multidimensional beings. They also imply that our outer and inner worlds are probably much bigger than we think they are.

Lastly, I know of no other books where police officers have openly shared about unexplainable phenomena or their epiphanies, so I pray you have great fun and enjoyment reading this book. Strange things do happen! Police officers are very reliable,

introduction

3

credible people who seldom lie. They learn to laugh and cry in their jobs—they just don’t always show it.

Thank you to all my fellow police associates and friends who entrusted me with their remarkable stories. You are so daring and brave! I am so grateful to have you as my family.

—Ingrid P. Dean

4

introduction

one

Angels & Divine Intervention Shared observances and interactions with angels and Universal/God thought are valuable. They expand our grasp of possibility and multidimensionality. While death may remain a physical reality from a scientific point of view, great questions about the real meaning of “terminal” and “eternal” are raised by these recorded experiences. The occurrences certainly lessen the sting and fear of death. They demonstrate the interconnectedness we’ve been learning about throughout the ages.

An Angel's Shield In 1992, I worked the 12th precinct (now the Western District) of the City of Detroit in a marked, uniformed patrol unit. My regular partner and I had been separated by a shift supervisor who didn’t like either one of us. I was paired with a desk officer 5

who had little street experience. As we went out on the road, I hoped it was going to be an average day.

As it became dark, we found ourselves driving north on Wyoming Road near Santa Clara. There was a red light at the intersection and all traffic was stopped. The car in front of us was occupied by three guys and had license plate BNL661 (I’ll never forget that number). The car stopped momentarily and then drove through the light. My first thought was that the light was stuck, but then it turned green.

The occupants of nearby cars looked at my partner and me as if to say, “You’re the police. Do something about it.”

We activated our lights and attempted to pull the car over.

The occupants began to argue. We could see them yelling at each other. They weren’t going fast—just cruising—but they weren’t stopping the car either. I advised our dispatcher of the situation and the direction we were traveling. Then the car turned down a side street and parked.

Instinct told me to stay further behind than I normally would on a traffic stop. As I started to exit the patrol car, the person in the front passenger seat leaned out of the door window and fired at me with an Intra-tech 9mm Uzi-style weapon.

Everything happened so fast. He fired at least three shots before I realized we were under fire. I quickly re-entered the police car to get to the radio to call for help. I shouted, “Officer in trouble! Twelve-11 under fire!” As I reached for my weapon, I could see bullets tearing through the metal hood of the patrol car on an angle toward the driver’s door—my side. I knew I’d be hit if I exited.

6

angels & divine intervention

Then the gunman fired a shot directly into the windshield of the patrol car at face level. I should have been killed. It should have hit me directly in the mouth. However, the bullet flew up, deflecting off the windshield. I knew the windshield wouldn’t take another hit without being penetrated. I had no choice but to get out of the car to fire because my shots were not effective from a seated position.

As I started to leave the car, everything went into slow motion.

A golden light filled the car and I heard a calm male voice say, “Don’t worry. You’re going to come out of this fine. You won’t be hurt.” I believed the voice. It felt as if a shield had been raised up in front of me. I knew that I wouldn’t be hurt!

I exited the police car while the gunman was still shooting.

I aimed and fired my weapon, causing the driver to floor the gas pedal and speed away. I emptied my magazine as the gunman and his accomplices fled.

I was not harmed at all. I looked around and saw my partner’s hat in the street; the passenger door was wide open. The first thing I thought was that my partner was hit. I searched around the patrol car and advised dispatch that I couldn’t find my partner. Moments later, additional police cars arrived, one with my partner in the backseat. It turned out my partner ran from the gunmen after the first shot.

Physically, I had been left alone—but spiritually, I had the best backup in the world. I am alive today because of divine intervention.

—Stephen C. Sokol, officer, retired Detroit Police Department

angels & divine intervention

7

Wake Up! It was close to midnight. I was very tired after working the afternoon shift, and I was driving home alone toward Adrian, Michigan. I was still in uniform, driving about sixty-five mph along a highway with farming fields on both sides when I fell asleep at the wheel of my small pick-up truck.

Just as my vehicle hit the gravel on the shoulder, I heard a loud voice shouting, “WAKE UP! WAKE UP!” I opened my eyes and realized I was headed straight for the north shoulder of the road.

My head was tilted forward, and I knew I had been sound asleep. Awake now, I looked toward the passenger seat and saw a man sitting there. He was staring me in the face, leaning toward me, and yelling at me to wake up. I could only see his outline because a bright glow seemed to come from within and around him. We were looking at each other eye-to-eye, but the brightness was so great that I could only see the contours of his face and body. I’ll never forget his intent stare.

I immediately looked forward and realized I was approaching the top edge of the ditch. I didn’t panic. I took my foot off the gas and steered back toward the roadway. Once I had the truck under control, I looked toward my passenger again, but no one was there. A dim light was still glowing, but it soon faded away.

It was not a dream. I saw a man, and I felt his presence in my truck. He was very bright, which gave me the impression he was an angel and not an ordinary ghost.

This is an experience I will never forget. If I had driven off the roadway at the speed I was going, chances are my truck 8

angels & divine intervention

would have flipped and death or serious injury would have been the consequence.

I truly believe a guardian angel saved my life that night. —Herman Brown, trooper Michigan State Police

The Helmet As a United States Army military policeman assigned to the 9th Infantry Division in Vietnam, I had many duties, most of which my recruiter failed to tell me about. One of these duties was to provide security to the combat engineers as they performed mine sweeps of the major highways. For safety reasons, this was done very early in the morning before traffic began moving.

Our platoon was located at Fire Support Base Moore just outside the Cai Lay District in the Mekong Delta, about sixty miles south of Saigon. It was always hot. The average daily temperature there is between 105 and 110 degrees Fahrenheit.

We rarely wore a helmet or flak jacket, which helped keep us from getting too hot.

One day, we received an order from our provost marshal, Lt. Col. Phillip Ash, stating that it was mandatory to wear the helmet and flak jacket at all times when outside of our camp.

The very next morning I was assigned to the mine-sweep detail.

The Viet Cong had been very busy the night before putting out mines on the road. When the combat engineers find the mines, they safely detonate them and fill in the holes and repair the road. They had found a very large mine and detonated it,

angels & divine intervention

9

which left a large crater. All traffic had to be stopped while they filled the hole and repaired it.

As I stood in the middle of Highway 4, holding back the traffic, a bus kept edging forward toward me. It brushed up against my leg. I moved forward just a little, and so did the bus. I walked around to the door and entered the bus. I told the driver he could not move any further until the hole was filled and the road repaired. Then I left.

As I walked toward my jeep to tell my sergeant what had occurred, I heard a loud explosion. I turned around to see this same bus flying up in the air. The enemy had placed a plastic command-detonated mine in the road. Because the mine was plastic and contained no metal, the mine sweepers had not detected it. The explosion killed more than half of the people on the bus and seriously injured the rest.

As I stood there in shock, I realized that Sgt. Murphy, whom I had just spoken to, was near the bus when it blew up.

I ran to him and observed him standing there with shrapnel holes in his flak jacket and his pants torn, but he was not hurt.

Then, all of a sudden, we started to receive rifle fire from the enemy. I hit the ground, crawled back to my jeep, got the microphone to the radio, and called for artillery support.

After all the action was over, we grouped together to make plans to treat and evacuate the wounded. At that time, one of my brother MPs looked at me and asked about the hole in my helmet. I had no idea what he was referring to. I took off my helmet and was surprised to see a hole in it. Luckily, the bullet that pierced the helmet itself had stopped in the helmet liner.

10

angels & divine intervention

If it had gone all the way through, the bullet would have hit me just above my left eyebrow.

I thought back to the order our lieutenant colonel had put out the day before that required all MPs to wear their helmet and flak jacket. If he had not done this, Sgt. Murphy and I would not have survived the attack. As I reflected on this, I also realized that less than two minutes before that mine exploded, I was standing directly on top of it. To this day, I do not understand why I survived and the people on that bus died.

Nothing in this world will ever convince me that this was something other than Divine intervention. I took a magic marker and wrote the words “God is my Partner” over that bullet hole, and I never let that helmet leave my possession during the rest of my tour in that country.

In 2007, I was planning a reunion for my Vietnam Unit and I contacted Lt. Colonel Ash. When I told him that story and I thanked him, his words to me were: “Well, son, it’s a good thing you followed orders!”

—John Patterson, sergeant, retired 9th Military Police Company, United States Army

The Bone Lady We are called to a drowning. A snowmobile with two riders has gone through the ice. We dive in and find the snowmobile, but no bodies. The sheriff contacts Sandra Anderson, a woman who is famous for finding bones and bodies in water.

This is my first contact with the Bone Lady.

angels & divine intervention

11

Sandra brings her dog. She says her dog can smell the gasses emitted by dead bodies, even in water. After a couple of hours she announces, “The dog is indicating the bodies are not out there.”

“How can you tell?” I ask.

She says, “Well, I can tell by the way the dog acts.” A week later one of the bodies shows up—only about 150 feet from where we were searching. This is my first red flag that something is wrong with the Bone Lady.

My next contact with her is in regard to a woman, Cherita Thomas, who has been missing since 1980. We believe Cherita is a homicide victim. McGregor and Dave Marthaler (FBI) take Sandra in the woods to search for Cherita’s remains. The first time they search the woods, nothing is found. They take Sandra to the same area a second time, and they start finding bones. I photograph the bones and e-mail the photos to a forensic anthropologist. He says they are animal bones. I recall Sandra telling me that her dog would never hit on animal bones. Another red flag is raised.

I start to get bad vibes about the Bone Lady. She always wants to return to a site … she never finds bones the first time, only on the second or third visit, and in areas that have already been thoroughly checked.

By this time, the crime team has discussed other missing people with Sandra. We have provided all kinds of information to her, and she continues to return to the same areas where she’s already been. Miraculously, we start to find human bones. We even bring in the FBI Recovery Team on one of the searches.

12

angels & divine intervention

We are on a suspected location and the dog is marking areas. To indicate the location of a bone, the dog puts its nose to the ground and then lies down. Sandra sticks a flag in the ground wherever the dog does this. We start searching the flagged areas. Several of us are down on our knees in one area when the Bone Lady says, “The dog is indicating there is a bone over there.”

“Where? Where is he indicating?” I ask.

She says, “Over there. Right where he’s at …”

I look again and say, “We’ve already looked over there.

There’s nothing there. Where do you mean?”

She says, “Right there. The dog is sitting on it.”

“How can you tell the dog is sitting on a bone?”

“I can just tell. He’s sitting on it‚” she says. “Reach underneath him and grab the bone!”

I thought, Yeah, right. I’m going to reach under the dog and find a bone … this is a joke!

She sees the look on my face and says, “I’m serious!” She moves the dog up, and low and behold, the dog is sitting on a bone!

The anthropologist on the scene determines it is a finger bone. “Yeah, it’s definitely human,” he says. Then he sticks it up to his nose and says, “Smell this.”

I look at him incredulously as I think, Right, the dog’s ass was just on this bone and now you want me to smell it …

He says, “Seriously, tell me what it smells like.”

I put it under my nose and sniff. “Smells like chlorine bleach.”

angels & divine intervention

13

“I was thinking more like ammonia, but yeah, bleach or ammonia,” he says.

“Why would this bone smell like ammonia or bleach after all these years?” I ask.

We discuss the possibilities. The best reason we can surmise is that the murderer poured chlorine bleach or ammonia on the body when it was decomposing to get rid of the smell. We search further and find more human bones.

Meanwhile, we are still searching for Cherita Thomas.

John Lucy and Jenny Patchin from the crime lab have joined us, and the Bone Lady is here, too. On one of our previous searches, Sandra was told about two hunters in a white Ford Bronco who have been missing since 1969. Well, she confused Oscoda County, where that case happened, with Oscoda, Michigan, which is far away in Iosco County. One of the finger bones she discovered on this search was wrapped in camouflage material—as if there was still flesh on it. It seemed to me that Sandra was finding evidence for every crime we told her about in this one area, like it was a mass dumping ground for bodies in Iosco County.

Anyway, everybody on the team believes the bones Sandra finds are real. They are excited about the discoveries, but I am getting strong feelings the whole time that something just isn’t right.

Sandra marked areas in a nearby stream a year ago. As we are walking along, the dog hits on something in the stream.

Sandra sticks flags in the water and says, “Let’s come back to this. Let’s go search another area first, then we’ll come back here.”

14

angels & divine intervention

“Whatever,” I say, although I think it is odd.

We follow Sandra and the dog to some other areas. She wants to look at what she calls coyote dens. She thinks coyotes drag body bones to their dens. Muskrats live in the banks of the stream, and she thinks the muskrat holes are a coyote den.

Someone finds a broken bone underneath a stump and everybody gets excited. “Hey, man, look we found an arm bone!” The anthropologist confirms it is an arm bone.

Sandra then announces, “Well, I’m going to go back down to the creek.” She meant where she had earlier planted the flags in the water.

Realize that John, Jenny, McGregor, and myself have already sifted this area with screens—right down to the hard bottom of the stream. We removed all the muck and did not find anything. I decide to accompany Sandra to the stream.

She kneels down in the water and says, “It’s gotta be right here, gotta be right here. The dog says it’s by my foot, dog says it’s by my foot …” I see her hand go to the back of her leg. “It’s gotta be by my foot.”

Jokingly, I grab her foot in the water and say, “Hey! I got a WHOLE foot!”

“No, no, seriously,” she says, “it’s gotta be right down here by my foot.” I take my hand off her foot, and sure enough, there is a bone right by her foot. The bone looks really old and brown. “Oh, you’re so good!” she says. “You’re always finding bones! Now, let’s check this other area where the dog says there’s something.” She kneels down in the water and starts searching.

angels & divine intervention

15

As I watch Sandra in the water, I realize she always wears leg warmers with her boots untied halfway down. There is usually a lot of bulk on top of boots.

Sandra says, “It’s gotta be right down by my foot, the dog is saying something’s here.”

So I reach in and, sure enough, there’s another bone. “Boy, these things look like they’re one hundred years old!” I say.

“Maybe you found an Indian burial ground or something,” she suggests.

I’m thinking, No, this is too coincidental … two times in the stream … in areas that have already been sifted … just her and me … no … something’s wrong … it’s all just too coincidental. Of course, I don’t say anything. After all, she is famous. She’s known worldwide for her work. I don’t feel like I know enough yet to question what she is doing, but I do have a sick feeling in my head and heart.

All of us are at the “coyote den”—the Bone Lady, Dave, Allen, and me. Sandra starts poking a stick in an overturned tree and says, “The dog indicates something is underneath there, something is underneath here. It’s gotta be here … gotta be right here.”

So, I get down on my hands and knees and start crawling into this hole.

“Geez,” I joke, “I’m going to get my ass bit by some muskrat!”

“Oh no,” she says, “the dog says something is there.”

Crawling in the hole is like crawling under a desk. It’s a smooth sandy area where the water washed up from the

16

angels & divine intervention

creek. It’s all clean sand. There is nothing there. I come out of there laughing. “Hey, there’s nothing here.”

“Hmm,” she says. “Dog is tired, better go. We’ll come back tomorrow.”

Dave and Allen go back up the bank. I start to follow, then turn around. There’s Sandra on her hands and knees, and she says, “My boot came untied … hey, I see a bone!”

“What do you mean you see a bone?” I say in disbelief. Of course, everybody turns around and comes back.

She points. “It’s right there! I can’t reach it though!”

The hole is about an arm’s length away. I get on my knees and there, where before there was nothing, is a bone sticking out of the sand. I know that bone was not there ten minutes ago. Now, I really am sick, because I know Sandra is planting bones at this crime scene.

I don’t know who to talk to about this. Sandra gives me a hug and says, “You’re so good … you find all these bones!” I think to myself, Yeah because you just put them there!

We call it a night and leave. All the other guys are saying, “This is great! We’re finding human bones! How exciting!”

I go home thinking, How am I going to say anything when they’re all so excited? She’s a famous lady, and I don’t have proof— but I know I’m right.

The next morning, before we return to the scene, Jenny and John come to me. Jenny says, “Do you think we missed anything when we originally searched that stump and found only beaver chips and stuff like that?”

“Not unless it was something so small you couldn’t see it,” I answered.

angels & divine intervention

17

Jenny shook her head. “No, I’m asking you if you think we missed anything like this?” She pulls out a piece of fibrous carpet material about two inches by one inch in size. “Do you think we missed this?”

“NO WAY! No way,” I say.

“Sandra went back to the stump and said we missed this,” Jennie says.

“Let me tell you what I think is going on.” I tell them all my suspicions and end by saying, “I think she’s got to be carrying bones in the back of her pant leg, in her bunched up leg warmers. I think Sandra is physically planting the stuff.”

We decide we’re not letting Sandra out of our sight. One of us will stay with her at all times—no matter what—all day long.

Unfortunately, Sandra manages to walk off with Al and Dave. They are headed to the other coyote dens with the dog.

Damn, now she’s out wandering around and none of us are with her! Sandra “finds” a piece of bone that allegedly has feces on it, which the anthropologist from Michigan State University is able to match with one of the other bones. Sandra wants to return to the stream, because the dog has alerted her.

Jenny says, “I’m going with you.” The two of them go off together. McGregor is at the creek, too. Sandy kneels down in the water and starts feeling around. Jenny is watching. She sees Sandy’s hand go behind her leg and reach at the back of her boot. Sandy says, “Oh, I got the bone right here …” But Jenny grabs Sandy’s hand before it can touch the bottom and says, “Yeah, because you just put it there.” The two women get into a tug-of-war over the bone!

18

angels & divine intervention

Sandra tries to throw it back in the water. Imagine that!

A bone that she just found—and she wants to throw it in the water! Well, McGregor is trying to figure out what’s going on. He grabs the bone, and that’s when Jenny and I tell him, “She’s planting the bones.”

I was relieved that with the help of divine intervention, Jenny and I connected that morning. Otherwise, the charade would have lasted much longer. Eventually, it was found that the bones were from Louisiana State University’s medical department. A captain in the fire department, who trained cadaver dogs, was allowed to have the bones, and he was supplying them to Sandy. Some of those bones ended up on our scene.

The FBI charged Sandra with ten counts; she pled to five.

Some people have appealed their cases based on her finding some of the evidence that convicted them. Fortunately, the evidence she found was just one small piece to the puzzle in each case. She would simply “find” the piece that investigators thought they still needed to tie up their cases.

Sandra has served her time and was recently released from federal prison.

—Mark A. David, chief of police Oscoda Township Police Department, Oscoda, Michigan

This Time, I Was the Victim It was early in the 2003 holiday season when my wife and I were invited to a holiday fund-raiser at a posh restaurant in Detroit’s Indian Village area. The purpose was to raise money

angels & divine intervention

19

for less fortunate inner-city kids, so they could be supplied with shoes for the upcoming winter.

I did my homework on the event. The mayor and some federal judges were also invited, so I trusted that their security details would have things well in hand. Thus, I did not fear for my wife’s and my safety or that of the other guests, including a police lieutenant from my department and his wife.

It should be noted that a police officer is always on duty.

When we take the oath of office, most agencies require us to carry our gun and badge twenty-four hours a day. We are rarely allowed to let our guard down. If we do, we are often criticized for it. In this case, I did not have my gun with me. I consider that divine intervention in and of itself.

The entertainment, food, and drinks were fantastic. It was a very nice evening, even though the mayor never showed nor did any of the federal judges or other celebrities as promised.

Things were winding down for the evening. The valet girl found me and gave me the keys to my vehicle, saying she was going off duty and would no longer be responsible for my truck.

Then, she ran out the door.

I went to the door to look for my truck, saw it, and was returning to the restaurant when two gunmen broke in! They rushed me with a gun pointed directly at my face, grabbed me by the necktie, and forced me into the dining room. One of them fired a shot next to my head and announced the hold-up.

I went to the ground. A second shot was fired and fragmented when it hit a $40,000 grand piano. A fragment of the slug struck a lady.

20

angels & divine intervention

I was not armed, as I believed the mayor’s security detail would be present. It’s a good thing I wasn’t, because I am positive that if my weapon had been seen I would have become another Detroit homicide statistic.

I believed I was going to be shot in the head as I lay face down on the floor. I threw my cash on the floor, as the gunman demanded everybody’s wallets. My wallet had a badge and police ID in it, and I knew that if my identity was revealed, I most assuredly would be shot.

For some unknown reason, I envisioned a crime scene photo with me lying face down on the floor with my brains spilling out of my skull. I was not about to allow that to happen. My wife was only a few feet away, hiding underneath a table. She appeared to be okay.

I began to pray and felt the presence of a guardian angel.

The fear left me and I was able to focus on the criminals’ actions so that I might become the best witness and see them led off to prison in handcuffs.

I threw my wallet under a table and it landed face open with the badge in full sight. I flipped it closed. How they never saw this had to be the work of an angel.

I was kicked in the groin as the number two gunman gathered up the cash and wallets. They went to a second dining room and I heard screaming and another gunshot. Then all was silent. I immediately called 911 to report the armed robbery with shots fired. I was still on the phone when the first patrol officer arrived and started to calm everyone and check for injuries. Before I knew it, there were uniformed officers all over.

angels & divine intervention

21

Suspects were being picked up in the neighborhood and brought back to the scene, but I couldn’t identify any of them.

My wife and I were thankful to go home alive that night with only relatively minor injuries. About a week later, we were sitting in our kitchen having our Saturday morning coffee, watching the local Detroit news program when I saw a story about a major arrest having been made by the Violent Crimes Task Force, a team comprised of FBI agents, Michigan State Police troopers, Detroit police officers, and some suburban Detroit police officers. The number one gunman’s mug shot was displayed and I immediately recognized him as the one responsible for the armed robbery where we were victims.

All weekend I telephoned the investigator assigned to our case, with no reply. Monday morning, I was able to contact a member of the Task Force and tell him our story. The bad guy, who had been arrested along with four others, was responsible for murder, armed robberies, and carjacking. A fifth suspect, a juvenile, had fled to Alabama, and the FBI was after him. Their specialty was robbing patrons at fund-raisers.

Weeks later, I was able to pick him out in a line-up at the Wayne County Jail. Although I never saw the case go to trial, as the number one suspect had already been convicted of first degree murder and sentenced to life without parole, I believe it was the intervention of an angel that saved my life that night. Divine intervention led me to watch the local news channel and see the scumbag’s mug shot.

—Steve Standfest, lieutenant, retired Beverly Hills Police Department, Beverly Hills, Michigan

22

angels & divine intervention

Oh Ye of Little Faith I was on patrol when a 911 went out about a person hit by a car. A ten-year-old girl had been hit by a pick-up truck traveling sixty-five mph. When I arrived on the scene, she looked like an adult, because her body was so swollen. Both arms and legs were broken and turned in the wrong direction. I had to adjust her head three different times to keep her breathing.

She and her sister had been running down the side of the road to meet their father, who was on his tractor plowing a nearby field. The victim ran ahead of her sister and was turning around in the road to run back to her sister, when she was hit. Unfortunately, her sister saw it happen. The father was now at the scene.

We had the girl air-lifted to Detroit Children’s Hospital.

Since it was the end of my shift, I didn’t phone the hospital for an update until the next day. I was certain the case was a fatal accident. The hospital spokesperson would not give me the list of injuries, even though I was the investigating officer.

I explained I already knew she had two broken arms and legs.

“I’m sorry. You don’t understand. It is not that we won’t give you this information, we just can’t. All I can tell you is that she has spent eighteen hours in brain surgery and it looks like she’s going to live.”

I said, “So what does that mean?”

The nurse said, “She’s probably going to be a vegetable, but it looks like she is going to live.”

I thought to myself, Oh God! Why didn’t you just take this ten year-old girl, instead of letting her live the rest of her life as a vegetable? It upset me. I reflected on this for awhile, then let go of the matter entirely—at least that’s what I thought. angels & divine intervention

23

About six months later I was giving a career day talk at Brown City Elementary School when a girl came up to me.

“You don’t remember me, do you?” she said.

I said, “No.” She said, “You were there when my sister got hit by the truck.” My heart sunk deep into my chest. I realized I hadn’t really let go of the issue.

I didn’t know what to say, so I asked, “How is she?”

“She’s doing great!” the girl answered. “Sometimes she forgets what happened a long time ago, and sometimes her left arm goes numb, but she is almost ready to come back to school! You should stop by our house because my parents would really like to thank you.”

When I heard this, I thought, Oh, ye of little faith. My faith in God and the power of Divine intervention was restored. I was reminded that I became a trooper to save lives and that I do make a difference in the world.

—Mary M. Groeneveld, trooper Michigan State Police, Stephenson, Michigan

An Angel’s Warning When I was young, my mom said she had a guardian angel to watch over us, especially whenever we traveled or did something risky, like race motorcycles. She said she always sent along her angel to take care of us.

Both of my parents died in 1987; my dad from a long battle with cancer, and my mom of a broken heart (they died within twelve hours of each other). Since then, I have always known

24

angels & divine intervention

that my mom’s angel watches over us, and I have called upon her many times to protect my own kids.

In 1997, another trooper and I from the Detroit Post volunteered to transfer to Benton Harbor. I figured Benton Harbor would be a lot like Detroit, plus it would be a break from the regular stuff at the Detroit Post.

Benton Harbor was a lot like Detroit, just on a smaller scale. One common practice when we came to a red light while patrolling was that if traffic was clear, we treated the light like a stop sign: stop, look both ways, and then drive through. The philosophy was to get the job done and not waste time sitting at a red light.

On one particular night, I was driving and we had been “stop signing” red lights all night. About three in the morning, my partner and I approached a green light at a blind intersection in downtown Benton Harbor. The tall buildings on all corners prevented me from seeing any possible oncoming cars. I said to my partner, “We’ve been going through red lights all night, I think I’ll stop for this green light and balance the scale.” I had no sooner stopped at the light when a car came screaming around the corner and drove at a high rate of speed through the red light!

If I had not stopped at the green light, we would have been broadsided. My partner and I looked at each other in amazement. Both of our jaws were dropped as we stared at each other in awe. We both knew we had been divinely protected.

I knew my mom’s angel had saved me once again. (Of course, we chased down the car and took appropriate action.)

—Robert Marble, trooper Michigan State Police, deceased angels & divine intervention

25

Breaking the Rules While I was on patrol, an oncoming vehicle sped by me at almost 100 mph. I had a feeling that something was wrong and that this wasn’t just a speeder gone wild. I made a U-turn and promptly stopped the vehicle.

A man jumped out of the driver’s seat and frantically ran toward me. He cried desperately, “My son has been stung by a bee and he’s dying! Can you help us, please? He’s in back of my car. He can’t breathe!” I saw the boy’s head resting on his mother’s lap; he was gasping for air.

The couple did not realize that the hospital they were heading for had recently closed its doors. Even though I was a fairly new trooper and still conditioned to following protocol, I decided to use my God-given power of discretion. There wasn’t any time to wait. I piled both parents and their son in the backseat of my patrol car and headed for the nearest hospital.

I drove faster than I’d ever driven before—even faster than in recruit school. The boy was suffocating. It was obvious his throat was swelled up, and he appeared to be losing consciousness.

Boisterous from adrenaline, I said to the boy, “Hey, look!

All the cars are pulling over for you! Wow, they see our lights and sirens! How do you like being in a patrol car and riding so fast? We’ll be at the hospital in no time, sweetheart.”

I was probably more excited than his parents. I don’t know how I kept my voice from cracking. I kept urging the parents to keep him awake. I was so scared for the boy.

It was summertime and with all of the tourists in town, traffic was bumper-to-bumper. As I wove safely between the

26

angels & divine intervention

vehicles, I knew divine intervention was at hand. We didn’t encounter any backups or delays.

Other thoughts rushed through my head, though, such as Will I be reprimanded or fired for this? I knew calling an ambulance would have taken too long, but I was breaking departmental rules. I considered pending lawsuits. I finally shut out those thoughts and silently affirmed, I don’t care if I’m written up. They can fire me, if they want. The boy is hurt. I know I’m doing the right thing. I’m following the voices of my angels.

We arrived at the hospital in less than ten minutes, and the boy was rushed to emergency care. The parents thanked me repeatedly, and then I left. I returned to my daily business, though I wasn’t looking forward to seeing my desk sergeant, because I was certain I would be confronted.

Later that day, when I returned to the post, I was surprised to learn that the boy’s parents had stopped by to thank me again. Fellow troopers greeted me with smiles and the desk sergeant actually patted me on the back and said, “Kudos, kiddo. Good job, but get back to work.” At the end of my shift I went home and thought the incident was forgotten.

When I turned on the eleven o’clock news, however, I saw the boy’s attending physician talking with a news reporter. I thought to myself, Wow, this made the news? and I turned up the volume on the television. The doctor said, “… by far the worst case of anaphylactic shock I have ever treated. If that trooper hadn’t brought the boy here so quickly, or had waited even five more minutes, this boy would not have survived.” I chuckled and thought, Well, that’s cool. I hope my boss is watching this because everything I did was against the rules! Then I shut off the TV and went to bed. I was content. angels & divine intervention

27

Divine guidance had directed me—and the boy was alive and well. Since I had broken departmental rules, I was disqualified for any life-saving award. But, one month later, I received a letter of appreciation from the governor himself ! I laughed.

The parents were so appreciative they had called the governor.

I framed it and hung it on my wall.

To this day it reminds me that no badge or trophy can ever bring me the same joy as knowing those parents brought their boy home. Any material award would now be a total insult— to both me and my angels!

—Ingrid P. Dean, detective sergeant, retired Michigan State Police, Traverse City, Michigan

Angel Voice In the autumn of 1982, I was assigned to CID (Criminal Investigation Division) Special Investigations, working surveillance on Highway M-13 near Saginaw, Michigan. I was following an undercover officer (UC) and a dangerous suspect in a vehicle ahead of me. My job was to follow the car and keep the UC out of trouble—and to back him up if needed.

While driving southbound, I had just passed two trucks (a pickup and a semi) when a ten-year-old boy rode his bike out from his driveway directly in front of me. He was crossing the road and failed to look to see what traffic was headed in his direction.

I had two choices: hit the boy or swerve the car to the shoulder of the road. At the time, all I could think of was my own son, who was about the same age. I wasn’t going to hit this kid, so I took the shoulder of the road.

28

angels & divine intervention

Obviously, I was traveling above the speed limit to complete the pass and to keep the UC’s vehicle in sight. I lost control of the surveillance car on the gravel shoulder. The car swerved radically back-and-forth and shot across the northbound lane of traffic (lucky for me, nobody was coming). The car hit a driveway culvert and then flew airborne over a four-foot ditch.

It is at this point that everything slows down in my mind.

As the car is going through the air and I’m headed sideways toward a large tree in someone’s front yard, I ask myself, “Am I going to be all right?”

A voice inside my head responds, “You’ll be fine.”

My car lands on the ground, the windows blow out and dust and dirt are everywhere. I am shaken, but fine.

As I pull myself out from the car, I wonder where the voice came from.

—Albert A. Boyce, detective sergeant, retired Michigan State Police, Haslett, Michigan

The Power of Prayer I was working in Cadillac, Michigan. Hansel Andrews, who was last known to have been with Robert Ostrander, was reported missing. After several visits to Robert’s house and other locations, I could not locate either man.

About a week later, Hansel’s truck was stopped by police in Las Vegas, Nevada. The occupants, who were known drug users, told police Misty Ostrander, Robert’s wife, had given them the truck. This was my first clue that something was wrong and that Hansel was perhaps dead.

angels & divine intervention

29

I considered it divine intervention that Hansel’s truck was stopped by the police. My second intuitive thought was that this case was a drug deal gone bad. Although I didn’t know if Hansel was alive or dead, I felt there was a criminal act involved in his disappearance. I pursued my follow-up investigation, assuming I would turn the matter over to some other jurisdiction located between Wexford County, Michigan, and Las Vegas, Nevada.

A few weeks after Hansel’s car was confiscated, Robert and his brother’s girlfriend, Analisa, were involved in a serious car accident. Robert suffered a broken leg and Analisa had significant head trauma. Upon Robert’s release from the hospital, I met with his wife, Misty, who had come home from Las Vegas. Analisa was in the hospital several months before I was able to interview her. When Analisa realized I wanted information on Hansel, she refused to talk with me.

An informant, whom I will call John (to protect his identity), was arrested on an unrelated charge by my partner, Detective Sergeant Greg Webster. Special Agent Rob Birdsong of the FBI and I interviewed John because he said he had information about a homicide. I sensed it was about Hansel. I heard a voice pleading in my mind, “Please listen. John has something to say.”

Michael Ostrander, Robert’s brother, had told John that Analisa and Robert had been in the car accident when they were on their on their way to put gasoline on a grave site in the woods so that animals would not dig up a body buried there. John said the body was Hansel’s.

30

angels & divine intervention

John’s sister allowed me to wire her vehicle and agreed to initiate a conversation with Analisa. In a recorded conversation, Michael admitted to John that Hansel had been shot and killed in the woods. John said he drove him somewhere in order to get rid of the gun, and Analisa went with them.

Analisa said Hansel’s body was buried near the area where she and Robert got in the accident. She didn’t sound at all bothered by the situation.

A drunk driving warrant had been issued to Robert Ostrander following the car accident. With the assistance of the prosecutor and the FBI, we decided to use the warrant to arrest Robert in Las Vegas in order to extradite him back to Michigan. Robert pled guilty to the drunk driving charge and was sentenced to one year in the county jail.

It is interesting to note that it took my assistants and me almost a year to develop this case and to prove that Robert killed Hansel.

While Robert was in jail, he made several telephone calls.

Most convicted felons know that all telephone conversations are tape recorded, so they often talk in code. Robert spoke with his wife, Misty, several times. In one conversation, he said, “No B, no C.” It wasn’t hard for me to figure out “no body, no crime.”

In another conversation, Misty said, “I talked to my attorney and he said there have been very few times they have been able to charge someone without a body—only once in a great while.” Again, I knew she was talking about “no body, no crime.”

angels & divine intervention

31

During the winter, my partner, Creed, and I decided to go to the area where the car accident occurred to look for possible grave sites. Creed and I walked, or drove, or rode on snowmobiles over and over, looking for clues during the long winter season.

I often felt we were close to the body. Mentally, I could hear a voice talking to me. Creed and I drove down one trail, just looking and probing, but fell short of the actual grave site by about one hundred feet. Yes, we were that close to the grave, but didn’t know it at the time!

After more talks with John, he finally admitted to driving Michael, Robert’s brother, and Analisa to Manistee and to throwing a gun off the pier. John also adamantly claimed that Michael was at the scene of the shooting. John said that logs were placed on the grave site to hide it and that Hansel’s cell phone was tossed inside the grave on top of him, along with a slew of credit cards. John repeated how Hansel had said, “Wow, what a cool camp site” as he was getting out of his truck, not knowing his dreadful destiny. John also pointed out the two-track where Michael said Hansel was killed and buried.

Over the next several months, Creed and I looked for a “really cool campsite” and any logs that might by lying around.

While we searched, a grand jury interviewed witnesses under oath. Analisa testified in front of the grand jury, but she lied about her involvement in the matter. A warrant was issued for perjury and Analisa was eventually arrested in Utah. At this point, Analisa finally agreed to talk to the police.

32

angels & divine intervention

FBI Special Agent Birdsong and I took Analisa out to the forest where we believed the grave site was, but she could not remember where the body was buried. All she remembered was that her feet got muddy. Twenty acres is a lot of land to comb for one small man-made grave. As I drove through the woods, I said several prayers, hoping for a miracle.

Once again, at the now familiar trail marker, I turned down the trail. Although I had no idea why, the marker seemed significant. This time I drove farther than we had before and suddenly, only fifty feet off the trail, I saw a small sandy area with logs on top of it! The logs seemed out of place, because there were no trees like them in the area. The logs just didn’t fit.

Then I spotted a blue laundry detergent container lying nearby. Maybe this jug was used to pour gas over the grave, I thought.

I got out of my vehicle, moved the logs, and felt soft sand underneath my feet. I brushed away the leaves that covered the forest floor. At first I thought, Maybe somebody either used this as a hunter’s outhouse or moved the logs over, but then I thought, no, this could be a burial site.

Later, I obtained a soil sampler from the health department and probed two different times into the ground. The probe went down about five feet, but didn’t hit anything.

There was nothing unusual about the soil samples I dug up.

I also used a shovel to dig a small hole. I brought a cadaver dog out to the site, but it didn’t hit on anything. I even took Analisa to the location, and she didn’t recognize anything. I

angels & divine intervention

33

contacted the Michigan State Police Crime Lab and requested an archeological dig anyway, just in case.

Without any good physical evidence, there was no hurry to do the archeological dig. In fact, I didn’t hold much hope that Hansel’s body would be found.

One day, some narcotics detectives and I were looking again for the grave site. When they stopped to eat lunch near the site I’d already probed, I went off to look at a nearby creek area, because Analisa had remembered having muddy feet.

After I left, FBI Special Agent Birdsong pointed to the sandy area and told his guys it was the type of area they should be looking for—a place where the ground was disturbed and were there were signs of human presence, like the logs and laundry detergent container.

One of the deputy narcotic agents asked Birdsong if they could just dig? Birdsong knew it probably wasn’t good police work, because the crime lab had already been contacted to dig, but he reluctantly agreed. The deputy took two swipes with a shovel. The first wipe—nothing. On the second swipe, however, out popped a cell phone! The deputy instantly recalled that a cell phone had been thrown in the grave with Hansel. They radioed to me, “You’re never going to believe this, but we found the grave site! This is it! It’s the spot you originally picked out! Hansel’s here!”

I thought they were joking—coworkers kid a lot—but I was in no mood to be kidded. The deputy sputtered excitedly, “I’m NOT kidding! Come see for yourself ! We just dug up a cell phone!”

34

angels & divine intervention

I didn’t believe him until I saw the cell phone. The chills and relief I felt were indescribable. We called the crime lab and they agreed to start an archeological dig immediately. As the scientists dug, one by one, the credit cards John had mentioned were retrieved. Eventually, about forty inches down, they hit on the sole of a tennis shoe—it was Hansel. His body had been found.

We obtained a warrant for Michael’s arrest and located him in Flint, Michigan, where he was hiding out. We obtained a full confession from Michael. He was at the site when Hansel was killed and it was his brother, Robert, who shot Hansel point blank. Michael confirmed that the incident was a drug rip off, just as I had guessed from the beginning.

Based on Michael’s confession, we got a warrant for Robert’s arrest—this time for homicide. It was only two weeks before he was to be released on the drunken driving charge.

What divine timing!

Walking into federal court was like entering God’s chamber; it was completely different than the everyday district or circuit court. The judge looked like an archangel. When it was my turn to testify on the stand, one of the defense attorneys asked me, “Can you tell us how you located this grave? How did you find it in the first place?”

After some reflection, I finally answered, “Sir, I said an awful lot of ‘Our Fathers’ and ‘Hail Marys’. That’s how I found the grave. That’s how I found Hansel.” (This exact statement is in the actual court brief ).

angels & divine intervention

35

I didn’t expound upon the mysteries of the matter. I knew it was God working through me. My answer was perfectly honest—although I did have to explain more to the court.

—Daniel O’Riley, detective lieutenant, retired Wexford County Sheriff Department

36

angels & divine intervention